


The Way He Sees You

by angelbastard



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, bill likes to disappear a lot for plot reasons, might be a little out of character? but only maybe, this is literally whatever the opposite of a slowburn is fgkjkjfg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21887530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelbastard/pseuds/angelbastard
Summary: Richie and Stan are friends, right? That's all they are. Just friends. Until... Richie sees something in Stan he's never seen before. Something new. Well- not new, just something familiar brought into a different light.... You'll see.
Relationships: Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Kudos: 37





	The Way He Sees You

“And so, with this example, we can see that Rudyard Kipling was pointing out the flaws in British colonialism in India, leading to….”

Richie leaned forward, propping his head up with his elbow. It was a miracle he was passing this class, given how little he paid attention and how infrequently he turned in any homework. He could argue that Lambert was a horrible History teacher, but he lacked the desire.

She droned on, her monotone voice lulling Richie into a half-sleep. Time moved by as slow is it ever had in the sleepy town, and the students were practically screaming for the day to be over. 

Bill reached over and pushed Richie’s elbow out from underneath his head. Richie snapped upright, suddenly alert.

“What the fuck,  _ Bill? _ ” he hissed. 

“Shut up,  _ bitchboy, _ ” Bill whispered. “You’re coming tonight, right?” No one called him Stuttering Bill anymore. After he’d killed IT, he hadn’t stuttered at all.

“What’s tonight?”

Bill rolled his eyes. “Come on, Richie. The whole club is spending the weekend at my place? We planned this like, three weeks ago?”

Richie paused. He’d entirely forgotten about the group’s plans to spend the weekend at Bill’s. “Uh… not sure yet, Bill. I’ll try to be there.”

Bill snorted. “What? Too busy mooning over Eddie?”

Richie blushed furiously. “Shut the fuck up,” he growled. Bill rolled his eyes and flipped his sheet of paper, continuing to take notes. Richie turned his head slightly, looking over at Eddie. What Bill had said really got under his skin, but there wasn’t even that much truth to it. 

Sure, Eddie looked incredible in that polo, his hair brushed back out of his face, talking to Bev in an undertone while Lambert droned on, but Richie didn’t like him… in that way. He was also pretty sure that Eddie was aromantic and asexual, and he didn't want to do anything to make Eddie uncomfortable or jeopardise their friendship. 

Richie let out a pinched and nervous breath. Lambert continued and the seconds dragged by, slower than molasses. He slumped down, half-asleep on his desk.

  
  
  
  


Richie opened the door tentatively, listening to see if his father was home yet. No noise greeted him, so he stepped inside and tossed his bag by the coat rack.

He sprinted up the stairs to his room, tossed his jacket in the corner, and emptied his pockets onto his nightstand. Then, he tossed his hat onto his jacket and took a quick piss. He grabbed his stuff again and was out the door.

Richie sped down the block on his bike, cruising around the curve of the street. Bill’s house soon came into view, and he slowed. Bill was standing in the driveway with Stan, gesturing at Stan’s bike on the ground in front of them. Richie rode up the drive and hopped off of his bike.

“What’s up, losers?” he asked, grinning wildly.

“Get fucked,” Bill said, picking up a can of WD-40 from the workbench in the open garage. 

Stan rubbed his arm self-consciously, and Richie immediately felt bad about what he’d said. Stan had never been quite the same since IT. “Hey, Richie,” he said quietly.

“What’s going on with the bike?” Richie asked. Bill prodded the chain with his foot. It creaked, but refused to move.

“Chain’s stuck,” Bill said. 

“It jammed when I was about two blocks away,” Stan mumbled. “I had to carry it here.”

They worked together for the next twenty minutes, with liberal amounts of both WD-40 and swearing and finally got the chain moving. “Yes!” Bill hollered. “Take that, you son of a bitch.”

Richie wiped his forehead and grabbed his bag off of the ground. “We ready to go inside?” he asked. 

Stan and Bill nodded. The boys stomped up the creaky wooden steps into Bill’s house, dropped their stuff by the front door, and moved into the cramped kitchen. “What kind of snacks are we talking about today, Billy-boy?” Richie asked, gleefully searching through all of the cupboards.

“We’re having popcorn later when we watch the movie. Jesus, calm down, Rich. You’re giving me palpitations.”

Stan smiled softly, peeling an orange while sitting on the counter. He placed the small segments of peel in a neat pile beside his long, pale legs. Richie couldn’t help but watch as his thin fingers worked themselves underneath the orange peel with an entrancing beauty. His train of thought was abruptly derailed, and all he could think about was those long, pale fingers, and Stan’s lithe body. 

Bill cracked his knuckles, jerking Richie back to reality. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to piss.” Bill turned and disappeared down the hallway.

Stan split the orange in half and offered a segment to Richie. He took it and popped it into his mouth. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Stan said. He tore a chunk out and swallowed it. Richie turned away and started fiddling with the hand towel next to the sink. A swell of feelings were rising in him, and he wasn’t sure why. He’d never really thought of Stan… like that before.

Stan brushed his curly hair out of his face with the back of his hand, and Richie’s stomach dipped. 

Bill sauntered down back into the kitchen. “I’ve returned,” he announced, to no one in particular. Richie shot bolt upright. 

“Hiya, Bill, we were just… uh, eatin’ oranges,” Richie stammered. 

Bill looked at him, face completely blank. “Okay, then. Rich, why don’t you take your stuff up to my room?”

“Okay, I guess.” Richie bolted out of the kitchen and back to the entryway. He moved down the hallway, muted voices coming from the kitchen.

“... don’t know why you won’t just make a move, Uris,” Bill was saying. Richie moved closer, trying to hear what they were saying. 

“But he’s scary,” Stan protested. 

“Scary? We’re talking about the same Richie, here, right? The guy who cries whenever he reads Old Yeller? Who’s scared of ceiling fans? That Richie?”

“I don’t think he’s into me, Bill.”

“I dOn’T tHiNk He’S- shut the fuck up. Have you  _ seen  _ the way he looks at you? Get out of your own head, man.”

“Okay, Bill. Thanks.”

Richie bolted down the hallway to Bill’s room, dropped his stuff in a pile by the closet, and tore back to the front of the house. “Howdy, fuckers! I’m back from the war,” Richie called. He turned to Stan. “Did you miss me, honey?”

Stan went beet red, and Bill howled with laughter. “Alright,” he wheezed, “that one was good. I need to go close the garage. Be right back.” And with that, he left.

Stan, still a deep vermilion, raised his hands up to his face. Guilt twisted up in Richie’s guts. “Hey, listen,” he said, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was probably too far.”

Stan shrugged. “You’ve said worse.”

He swallowed. “Yeah, maybe. But that doesn’t mean that that was okay.”

“Alright. Apology accepted.”

Richie turned away. His thoughts were swimming, and he wasn’t sure why. He was suddenly aware that he was speaking. “Fuck, you’re just so pretty. I can’t think properly around you, and it makes me act like a jackass because all I can think about is how much I want to kiss you. And your lips are so pretty and-” His voice was cut off as Stan stood up abruptly

Stan's hands fell away from his face as he slid off the the counter to gain more distance between him and the boy wearing those coke-bottle glasses. “Are you fucking with me right now?” His voice was a low whisper, and he sounded more afraid than Richie had ever heard him. “I swear to God, Tozier, if you’re fucking with me right now-”

Richie moved forward, closing the distance between them, and mashed his mouth against Stan’s. The pale Jewish boy let out a soft noise of surprise, and then melted into Richie. 

The kiss was their entire world. It was a little tentative, a lot clumsy, but earnest and full of emotion. Richie ran his hands through Stan’s curly hair. It was something that he’d always wanted to do, but he only realised it now. 

The sound of a throat clearing tore them apart. Bill leaned against the fridge. “So,” he said, a slightly smug air in his voice, “I take it that everything went smoothly in my absence.” 

Richie looked at the breathless boy sitting on the counter in front of him. He squeezed Stan’s hand, and felt a happiness that he hadn’t felt since before IT, and said, “Yeah. I think everything’s just perfect.” 

  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hhhhhhhhhh so here you have it!!!! I hope you enjoyed and if you did please let me know! I wanna start making content again but I'm never sure if people actually like it.
> 
> Before I head out I just wanna mention that this was a secret santa gift for @canard-wolfhard on tumblr! So happy holidays to her!


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